


and everything is icy and blue (and you would be there too)

by blake0tyler



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attraction at first sight, Christmas Fluff, Christmas market, F/F, poor labor laws lol, this was just an excuse to write Victoria Pedretti in a christmas outfit, zero plot lots of christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28313613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blake0tyler/pseuds/blake0tyler
Summary: There is no way on God’s green earth that Dani would ever voluntarily decide to dress up as a sexy Christmas elf if she wasn’t painfully, desperately in need of some cash.Well, that—And maybe the fact that the girl running the flower shop across from the Christmas market can’t seem to look away.//[ self-indulgent modern day christmas au ]
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 83
Kudos: 439





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lizardwriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizardwriter/gifts).



> Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! There is barely any plot in this but what we do have is some sinful imagery and a lot of attraction. Hope you will enjoy!

It is, without a doubt, the most _shameful_ thing she’s ever worn.

“Why am I doing this again?”

Rebecca, to her credit, barely looks up from her public international law notes as Dani rushes around the apartment trying to find the shoes — the goddamn thigh-high black velvet boots that make her feel scandalized before she’s even put them on.

“You need the money.”

“Thanks, Becs,” Dani huffs out, raking a hand through her puffed up hair. “That was a rhetorical question. Have you seen the boots?”

It’s true, though.

There is no way on God’s green earth that she would ever voluntarily decide to dress up as a sexy Christmas elf if she wasn’t painfully, _desperately_ in need of some cash.

“I’m gonna be late, I’m gonna be late,” she mutters, “Are you sure you haven’t seen the—”

She spots them right by the door, in front of the mirror, where she probably put them last night to make sure she’d leave looking presentable enough. A Christmas market is a public place after all. And her employer—well, it’s supposed to be a _children’s_ event, isn’t it?

It takes her a minute to pull the boots on. She almost loses her balance twice, but then she stands, hand on her waist, examining the final look in the mirror.

She looks—

“Like a Hooters girl,” she says, out loud.

The skirt is criminally short, probably the shortest thing she’s ever worn. It’s blood red, matching the color of the lipstick she so carefully applied earlier. It’s got fluffy white fur stitched onto the hem that in no way reaches the tops of the boots—meaning that, fur or not, Dani’s going to freeze her damn thighs off if she has to stand out in the English winter all day. It doesn’t help that the top, though long-sleeved, is made of such thin material that it might as well not even be there. Which, as for her cleavage—

“Sounds very American,” Rebecca comments from the table, still not looking up. “Am I supposed to know what that is?”

“You wouldn’t,” Dani says, hooking her thumb behind the thick black belt that holds the whole outfit together. “It’s below your feminist ideals.”

“Hey,” Rebecca says, civil law tone clicking into place. “Feminism is about agency, mind you. So if you’re about to set the women’s movement back thirty years right here in our own flat by judging a woman’s decision to be a Hooter stripper or whatever inference I was supposed to make from—”

“It’s not—that wasn’t—” Dani presses her thumb and index finger to her eyebrows, panic flowing into her voice. “Becs, can you just leave your midterm notes for _two seconds_ and look at this situation with me?” 

Rebecca looks up.

“ _Oh._ ”

Dani groans.

“Right,” Rebecca says, exhaling slowly. “Okay, well—this...” She narrows her eyes and taps her pen against the table. “I mean, do you know what labor protection clauses were specified in your contract when you signed it because this—” Her brows furrow together abruptly. “Wait, are you supposed to be a cat or a bunny?”

“I’m an _elf_ ,” Dani snaps. “A Christmas elf.”

Rebecca arches an eyebrow. “For children?”

“Oh my god.”

Dani stubbornly fights off the wave of panic that rolls through her chest as she stares at herself. So much red, so much fur, so much of her bare skin on display. God, how is she ever going to make it through this week?

She takes a breath, steels herself and places her hands on her hips, thinks: _you got this._ Thinks: _no one in this town even knows you_. Thinks: _you need the money for the rent, you need it for your life, you need it to be far away from Iowa for just a little while longer, get it together, you look fine, you look—_

“Didn’t you say you were running late?”

Oh, fuck.

No time like the present.

“So, I know you’re busy studying,” Dani starts, wrapping her coat around her shoulders and hoping she gets to keep it on. “But if you need a break or something, you know where to find me, yeah?”

She hopes it doesn’t sound too pleading, hopes her roommate won’t be able to hear the edge of _please come by and save me from this mess_ in her voice.

Rebecca gives her a soft smile. “It’s just a job. It’s just a thing we do.”

Dani nods and she knows that to Rebecca — who has had to sit in board rooms at unpaid internships with men who are only interested in her looks more times than she can count; who isn’t bent over her six-hundred page law books the week before Christmas for no reason — they’re not empty words. 

“Right,” she says, echoing it to reassure herself. “It’s just a job.”

She pulls the door open, halfway into the hall already when Rebecca calls her name.

“Yeah?” Dani yells back, too nervous to even care about phrasing it in more polite English.

“For what it’s worth,” her roommate’s voice comes from the apartment, and Dani can almost hear the smirk in her voice. “You make a hot Christmas elf.”

Dani rolls her eyes and slams the door closed behind her. 

*

She doesn’t get to keep the coat on.

The Santa corner of the Christmas market is run by a guy named Peter Quint, who spends the first ten minutes of her shift staring right down Dani’s top with hungry eyes. It’s blatantly obvious who decided on the costume.

She forces herself to stand up tall and focus on his run-through of the activities, ignoring the voice at the back of her head that tells her to get away from this whole endeavor while she still can. 

Center to the space is a large red throne for Santa to sit on while Dani and the other girls are responsible for putting the kids into orderly lines and “provide entertainment”, as Peter Quint says, with a grin on his face that makes Dani’s blood boil. 

_It’s a job,_ she thinks. _Don’t snap at him. Just smile._

“Right,” she says. “Well, I’m good with kids, so.”

Peter Quint narrows his eyes. “Bet you are.”

She’s got half the mind to stare him down and ask him what that’s supposed to mean, but someone grabs her elbow before she can get the words out. It turns out that the other girls, Ava, Charlie and Grace, thankfully are a lot better company. They’re all around her age, attending college — _uni_ as they keep saying — or just out of, and if she’s going to suffer the embarrassment of this outfit, at least she won’t have to do it alone.

“Here,” Grace says, pulling Dani towards her, not shy to get her hands on the belt of Dani’s costume the second Peter Quint disappears out of sight. “You want to clasp it like this, babe. It’s more comfortable that way. First day, eh?”

“Yes,” Dani says. “That’s— _oh._ ” She feels her face flush as the Grace’s soft, quick hands skim right up her ribs for a second. “Thank you. That’s, uh—yeah, you’re right, that’s better.”

“An American, then.” Grace smiles. “What’s a girl like you doing overseas?”

If Dani’s inhale is a little sharp, Grace doesn’t comment on it.

“Oh, you know,” she says, forcing a smile. “Found my calling as a Christmas elf.”

Grace gives her a cheeky smile that’s reassuring at the same time. “It’s just a week.” She nods in the direction of something behind Dani. “Right, so. If you need a break, bathroom’s at Owen’s. Up there with the flower shop. Can’t miss it. And don’t let that prick who returned as Santa this year try and get his hand up your skirt. God knows he will give it a go if he can.”

Dani blinks hard.

_Sweet baby Jesus._

This is going to be a nightmare.

:::

After twenty minutes, her toes feel frozen in her high-heeled boots. After an hour, Dani is sure her heels have started bleeding. The tight fit of the shoes is killing her with every step. Every time she rushes over to welcome new families, she can feel the painful, familiar sting that accompanies the breaking in of a new pair of shoes.

The cold wind isn’t making anything better. Thankfully, the stupid Christmas hat keeps her ears warm, at least, and Ava had been kind enough to shove a pair of red gloves in her hands which Dani is already eternally grateful for. But even so, the thin fabric on her body doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her bones and her thighs feel _sinfully_ exposed.

More than once, she’s caught John, the old man playing Santa, eyeing her for a moment too long, already.

But, thankfully, Charlie, whose third year on the job this is, hovers protectively close to her the whole time and seems to be letting her take on the easiest tasks—greeting the kids, taking down names, asking them what’s on their wish list for Christmas. Nice things. Fun things.

_This_ , Dani thinks, _I can do_.

Sure, it’s a far cry from a classroom. But when a small girl with curly hair slips on the icy pavement, Dani manages to soothe her quick enough with a candy cane and a wink. And when a little boy tells her that he’s going to ask Santa for a kitten, Dani is quick enough to tease him with funny name suggestions until he’s laughing so hard he can barely speak. It’s also not particularly awful when a girl with a sweet smile walks past and decides to stop her older brother and exclaim with wild excitement, “Miles, look at that stage! Isn’t it _splendid_?”

They’re ushered away by a man in a suit before Dani can make her way over, but still it makes her smile.

Yet all afternoon, nothing truly softens the sting of the cold, which means Dani feels close enough to passing out when Peter Quint finally makes his way over and tells her she can _take a break and powder her nose_ , if she wants.

Clenching her teeth, she makes her way across the street, coming to a stand quite abruptly as she tries to remember where Grace had pointed her towards before.

_Can’t miss it,_ she’d said. Flower shop. Right across the Santa stage.

There is indeed a flower shop, next to an excessively decorated café that has fake snow all over the windows and fairy lights strung across where the front reads _A Batter Place_ in bright red cursive _._ Dani fights the urge not to roll her eyes. The flower shop is less aggressive about its holiday cheer. But the poinsettias out in front of the pretty window are absolutely beautiful.

A bathroom.

She just needs a bathroom—and a _break._

For a second the thought crosses her mind that it’s kind of weird to be sent here for the bathroom when there’s a café right next door. But Grace had clearly said _flower shop_ , so without second guessing herself, she pushes the door open.

There’s a little bell that chimes when Dani steps across the doorstep, but no one inside.

“Hello?” she says after a second.

“One moment!” comes a voice from the back.

Dani shudders. The sudden heat of being inside the store is almost overwhelming. She closes her eyes, breathes in deep, lets the quiet of the moment fall over her.

_It’s fine,_ she thinks, trying to steady herself. _It’s not so bad. You can handle freezing wind and bleeding feet. You can handle sleazy men and screaming children. You can—_

“Sorry for the wait. Nordmann trees just came in. What can I— _oh._ ”

Dani’s eyes snap open.

Her heart stutters.

The girl standing in front of her is unfairly pretty. She’s dressed in nicely fitted dark jeans and a soft-looking black turtleneck, but it takes Dan a long and shaky moment to drag her gaze away from the piercing eyes, the girl’s lips, the mess of dark curls. She doesn’t know what she was expecting when she stepped into the shop—perhaps another pervy old guy, someone who could be named Owen at least. She honestly hadn’t given it much thought.

_This_ nearly knocks the breath out of her. 

“Hi,” she says, when her mind finally catches up. “Um. I was told there was a bathroom?”

The girl’s brow furrows. She seems to be taking in Dani’s outfit, eyes sliding down the length of Dani’s body and then up again, lingering for a confusing, _thrilling_ second on her chest, which—

Well, the cold—

Dani bites down on her bottom lip and the girl’s eyes snap up. “Sorry?”

She sounds different from the Santa girls, Dani notices. Different from Rebecca, too. Something in her accent that feels warm and to the point and makes Dani’s toes curl in a way she can’t quite place.

Well, they would curl—if they weren’t frozen, that is.

“I’m from the Santa experience,” she says. “I’m one of the—” She lets out a nervous laugh, running her hand over the edge of the skirt. The girl blinks hard. “Well, I guess that part’s obvious. I, uh—” The way the girl is looking at her is making her shiver, even now that she’s inside. “I’m on break and Grace said to go to Owen’s for the bathroom. But maybe I’m in the wrong place—”

_Stop talking,_ she tells herself. _Don’t be an idiot and just shut up._

The girl is still staring at her.

“You don’t exactly look like an Owen—”

In the back of her mind there’s an echo of a chiding voice that sounds frighteningly like Rebecca’s, snapping at her about _assumptions_ and _keeping an open mind_ and _subverting gendered categories._

Dani’s eyes go wide. “Not that you—I mean, if your name _is_ actually Owen, that’d be—” She swallows, blanking on an adjective under the girl’s heavy stare.

“—splendid,” she adds weakly. 

The corner of the girl’s mouth curls up. “Splendid?”

Dani pulls the Christmas hat off and runs a hand through her hair, feeling the worst mix of simultaneous mortification and attraction rolling through her body _._ But before she can say anything else that will embarrass her further, the girl steps forward.

“Owen’s next door. The bakery and the café belong to him.” She glances up at Dani, and then holds out a tentative hand. “Name’s Jamie.”

Dani pulls off the glove that Ava had given her. The girl’s hand is soft and warm against her stiff and frozen fingers. “Dani.”

“ _Dani_ ,” Jamie echoes softly, like she’s testing it out, almost absentmindedly. It makes Dani’s stomach flip and she can’t bring herself to pull her hand back, even when Jamie actually seems to register just how cold Dani’s hand really is. Her eyes go wide. “God, it must be freezing out there.”

Dani exhales hard and shrugs. She feels an inexplicable and almost needy urge to make this girl like her; to make her think that Dani is capable, is nice, is _warm_ ; that she is strong and doesn’t give up and is a lot braver than people think. Even when that means taking on a job that basically means walking around naked in front of middle-aged husbands—

“It’s not so bad,” she says, forcing a shaky smile.

But Jamie is already stepping in closer, looking mad, looking right over Dani’s shoulder at the street through the shop window. “Who’s in charge of this? It’s close to snowing out there. It shouldn’t be allowed to—”

She cuts herself off and then drops Dani’s hand, moving back a bit as if she overstepped.

“Really,” Dani says. “It’s just a job. I can take it.”

Their eyes lock for a moment. Dani feels the blush rise on her cheeks, feels suddenly more exposed than she’d been outside in the cold.

“Right,” Jamie says, after a moment. She gestures vaguely. “Well, Owen’s is right next door, but if you—I mean, feel free to use the bathroom here. You don’t have to leave.”

It floods like warmth through Dani’s body.

“Thank you,” she says. “That’s very kind.”

“‘s really nothing,” Jamie says. “Second door to the left.”

:::

Turns out, Dani’s heels _are_ bleeding.

She hisses as she pulls the boots off to inspect her split-open skin. Her fingers are trembling when she wets them under the faucet and starts to carefully dab at her ankles. She takes a breath, drawing air up into her lungs as deeply as she can. After a moment, the pain eases a bit. Not much, but a bit.

By now, her body’s warmed up enough that her muscles are tingling when she tiptoes back into the shop on bare feet.

“Made you some tea,” Jamie says from behind the counter. “I know ‘tis not much, but I figured it’s the least I can—” She cuts herself off, eyes going wide. “You’re limping.”

Dani lets out an airy laugh. “It’s fine. Really, it’s—” She holds up the boots. “New shoes, you know? Beauty is pain and all that.”

Jamie’s face is wrecked with concern and Dani, again, feels the heat work its way up her neck; the strange mix of affection and embarrassment over having someone — this girl she only met a moment ago — scolding at the cold of the street like she might be able to change the weather, making her tea for no reason at all, and looking at her like _this._

“I should get out of your way,” Dani says, her voice just a bit hoarse. “Thanks for the tea, but Peter Quint is probably wondering where I’ve run off to—”

“Wait,” Jamie says. “I’ve got—” She rummages through a drawer, then pulls out what looks like a band-aid. “Here, sit, I’ll...”

She pulls out a stool and moves for Dani to sit down, while she carefully cuts the band-aid up in two thin ones with a pair of scissors. Dani tries not to stare at her fingers, nimble and careful, tries instead to keep her attention on the cup of tea that Jamie’s placed in her hands.

_Stop it,_ she thinks to herself. _She’s just being nice. She’s—_

“I love your shop,” she says, feeling breathless for no reason. “You’ve got some beautiful plants and flowers here.”

Jamie smiles at her—a real smile, open and wide. Dani feels like biting down on her bottom lip at the sight of it. The way Jamie’s eyes light up just a tiny little bit is enough to make Dani’s pulse race in her throat.

“Thanks,” Jamie says. “Admittedly, it took some blood, sweat and tears but—” She glances around. “It’s not bad, is it?”

She drops to her knees, and Dani belatedly realizes that she means to take Dani’s bloody heels in her own hands.

“Oh,” she stammers out when Jamie’s fingers land softly on Dani’s calf, pulling her leg just a bit closer. “You don’t have to—I can—”

_Do it myself,_ she means to say, but Jamie’s fingers slide right to the edge of her ankle and all the breath fades from Dani’s lungs just like that.

Jesus.

She blinks, swallows hard, struggles to clear her head suddenly. Like she’s some shaky girl in a Victorian novel. Like the feeling of Jamie’s touch to her bare skin is enough to have Dani digging her fingers hard into the edge of the stool—which, _fuck,_ she is. 

Must be the cold, she reasons. Must be the tingling from the cold that’s lingered on her skin, making her unreasonably sensitive.

_Get it together._

Jamie, meanwhile, doesn’t seem to notice Dani’s absurd reaction. She seems fully focused and in control as she carefully smooths the band-aid over the skin of Dani’s heel, first the one and then the other.

“There ya go,” she mumbles, almost to herself. “Is that good?”

She lifts her gaze up to Dani, fingers brushing, and Dani’s in the _shortest_ skirt she has ever worn in her whole life, feeling like she’s going to burst right out of her skin. 

“Yep,” she chokes out, jumping off the stool, placing the cup of tea on the counter with a little too much force. “All good. That’s perfect. You’re—” She reaches for the boots. “Thank you.”

Jamie nods and runs a hand through her curls. There’s a hint of pink on her cheekbones, but Dani scrambles to get fully dressed before this can get any more embarrassing. “It was nice meeting you,” she says, trying to smooth it over. “I’m glad I—well, I should get back before the other girls get mad at me. But this was... nice.”

“Right,” Jamie says, a sudden stiffness in her posture. Her eyes meet Dani’s. “You’re always welcome to come back. If you need me to warm you up.” Her eyes go wide. “I _mean_ —if you need to warm up. If you—if you are cold and you need—” She nods. “Okay?”

Dani can feel the heat of her blush through her whole body. “Okay.” She pushes herself to walk to the door, turns to smile one more time. “Thanks, Jamie. Really.”

Stepping back into the cold is awful. The line of children has miraculously doubled in the last ten minutes or so and Dani can feel her heart sink at the prospect of doing this for a few more hours. She steels herself, doesn’t look back, and puts a bit more spring into her step as she walks back to the stage, in case Jamie’s—

In case she’s looking out the window, watching Dani walk—

_No,_ she tells herself, snapping out of it. _This is a job. You’re here to do a job. Don’t get distracted._

But when she finally reaches the stage and turns back to glance at the flower shop, Jamie is outside, dragging out a large Christmas tree. Their eyes meet for just a moment before Dani looks away, forcing all her attention to a newly arrived family, but realizing there’s no use.

She’s already completely and irreversibly distracted.


	2. II.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Changed this from 3 to 4 chapters, alternating povs. Hope you will enjoy!

When she tells him, Owen, of course, thinks it’s hilarious.

It takes every ounce of Jamie’s willpower not to shove him against his own oven. “What was I supposed to do?” she snaps. “Owen, stop laughing, you prick. She’s American, alright? I had to help her out. Besides, it’s your fault she was even in my bloody shop in the first place.”

Owen leans against the counter, out of breath from laughing so much.

“Figures you would fall in love with one of them this year,” he says, grin on his face. “It was bound to happen eventually, Jamie, bound to—”

“Will you shut up? All I did was give her plaster. I didn’t _fall in_ —”

He cuts her off, arching an eyebrow at the window. “So, which one is it? The brunette with the glasses?” He squints. “Or the tall one up on the stage, who looks like she’s about to knock that old man’s teeth out if he keeps putting his hand on her every time a parent wants a picture.”

Jamie exhales hard, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of giving in, but then glares out of the window anyway. Promptly, she wishes she hadn’t. Dani’s bent over in front of two children, something she really should _not_ be doing in that outfit, if only for the reason that it’s going to give Jamie sleepless nights for the next few weeks.

She can still feel the smooth skin of Dani’s leg under her fingertips, can clearly picture the way she had blushed when Jamie had blinked up at her. Jamie, feeling dazed and overwhelmed and completely _flustered_ in front of this girl that she only just met.

She bites down on her bottom lip.

One of the kids laughs at something Dani says and it clenches in Jamie’s chest. She really wishes she could look away, wishes she could block Dani’s bright and excited smile from her vision, wishes Owen wouldn’t follow her gaze right to—

“Oh! It’s the—”

“Blonde,” she admits in defeat. “Yes.” 

Owen grins. “Great hair,” he states with a nod of appreciation. “I can see why you—”

“You _shut up right now or I swear I’ll—_ ” 

The bell of the café chimes and Owen winks at her, stepping out of her reach before she can swat at his arm. While he busies himself with taking whatever pastries the family is ordering from the vitrines, Jamie leans onto the end of the countertop and stares through the fogged-up windows of the café.

She should be doing work. She should be checking Christmas orders and listing the Nordmann trees into the system. She should leave Owen and his bad commentary for what it is and _stop_ looking at the way the bright red Christmas hat keeps slipping off Dani’s gorgeous wavy hair every time she—

“Oh, you’ve got it _bad_ ,” Owen says, popping up next to her again. 

This time, she does shove him. “I’m going back.”

“Don’t get lost on your way.”

If there weren’t any customers in the café, she would flip him off.

:::

When the sun starts to set and the streets start to clear, Jamie half expects — half _hopes_ — that Dani will come walking through the door of the shop again. She’d been pretty clear, hadn’t she? That Dani is welcome to come back any moment, for anything. Even if it’s just the bathroom. It was practically an open invitation.

She forces herself through a completely unnecessary re-ordering of Christmas ribbons behind the counter, ignoring the urge to keep looking through the window. But when she finally does glance at the street again, Dani is nowhere to be seen near the ‘Santa Experience’.

Jamie’s heart sinks but she reminds herself it’s for the best.

She really shouldn’t get caught up in any of this. Shouldn’t get attracted to the some girl she barely even knows, just because she’s got legs that go on for days, legs that look like they’d flex beautifully when—

There’s a loud knock on the window and Jamie’s head jerks up, effectively breaking the thought before it goes somewhere really dangerous and really inappropriate. Owen’s too-eager face has appeared in front of the window. He gestures wildly, some sort of beckoning sign that probably means she should come over to the café, before immediately disappearing out of sight again.

Jamie sighs and spares a glance at the clock. It’s not uncommon for her and Owen to close the day at the café with a brew or something stronger from what he keeps on a shelf in the backroom for the occasional alcohol-infused baked good. (But mostly, as they both know, for the sake of Jamie’s re-occurring visits). 

Doesn’t mean he has to make such a show about it, though. Knocking on her window like that, hurrying her like she’s late or something. She was practically on her way already.

With her jacket and scarf under her arm, Jamie makes sure to lock up. It’s so cold that she debates putting everything on, even though it’s only one door down. The sky looks like it might snow later and Jamie shivers.

Almost at the door already, she’s about to wrap the scarf around her shoulders when her breath catches in her throat.

_Of course._

Right there, sitting at Owen’s bar is—

“There you are,” Owen exclaims when she crosses the doorstep.

“I was here three hours ago,” Jamie says, but it’s a wonder she even manages to get the words out.

Dani turns at the sound of her voice. “Jamie, hi! I was just telling Owen about the—” She waves her hand. “—the thing with the bathroom earlier.”

“And what a story,” Owen says, grinning in a way that makes Jamie want to punch him square in the jaw. “It’s a good thing it all worked out in the end, don’t you think?”

Dani laughs and smiles sweetly at Jamie, who is overwhelmed and unprepared and still just standing in the doorway like an idiot. It’s not helping that Dani is still dressed in the exact same outfit. She’s kicked her boots off, one bare leg crossed over the other as she sits at the counter, but apart from that she’s still decked head to toe in Christmas red, including the hat that keeps slipping sideways.

Owen looks smugly between the two of them, like he’s personally responsible for this lucky turn of events—which, he probably fucking is.

Dani on the other hand, doesn’t seem to notice. She gestures at Jamie and, as though she does this every single day, pats the stool next to her. “Come sit?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Jamie says, springing into action. She runs a hand through her hair, making her way over. She fumbles with the scarf in her hands and then— “Here, in case you’re cold...”

She hands it to Dani a little awkwardly. The smile she gets in return could power a Christmas tree.

“Oh my god,” Dani says, taking it eagerly. “You keep saving my life today.”

Jamie feels heat making its way up her cheeks. “Well, seems like you’ve got a lot on your hands today, Poppins.”

She doesn’t know where _that_ comes from.

Dani’s nose scrunches up just a bit. “Poppins? Like—”

Owen places two steaming mugs of hot chocolate in front of them. “On the house,” he exclaims brightly. “Except this one.”

He points at Jamie’s mug and Jamie would honestly flip him off again, but Dani laughs — this beautiful light sound that hits Jamie square in the chest — so she decides to leave it.

“How were the kids, then?” she says instead. “Did they go easy on you?”

Dani promptly starts recounting all the different families she’s met while Owen comments with the worst of town gossip he can think of. The whole thing feels frighteningly fast and easy for how shortly they’ve known each other— so much that Jamie can’t really wrap her head around it.

In her defense, she’s also struggling to pay close attention to all the details of Dani’s story; is more distracted by the sight of Dani in her soft gray scarf, by the way she keeps wrapping the fabric closer around her shoulders like she’s trying to disappear into its warmth. She’s even more distracted by Dani’s pretty red lips and flushed cheeks and the fact that if she moves her knee just a little bit, it’d be brushing against Dani’s under the countertop.

She moves her knee away, to the opposite side, and tries to tune back into the conversation.

“—you haven’t seen how we do Christmas in Iowa.”

Owen leans onto the counter, grinning widely. “If you’re about to insult our lovely little town of Bly, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises.”

Dani laughs. “I wouldn’t dare to. No, I’m just saying—” She arches an eyebrow at Jamie in a way that shouldn’t be so damn attractive, but totally is. “Those Christmas trees you were setting up outside were beautiful, truly, but where I’m from they set up seven thirty-feet Christmas trees on the town square each year. Seven trees of thirty feet!”

Jamie looks at Owen. “Do you have any idea what she’s saying?”

Dani swats her arm and laughs. Her fingers linger on Jamie’s elbow for a second and, again, Jamie can feel herself blush. She tells herself it’s not intentional, tells herself that there’s nothing going on here besides an encounter with a girl who’s new in town who had a horrible day and maybe needs some friendly company.

Still, when her eyes meet Dani’s for a second, it feels slightly charged.

“Until when do you have to do the—” Jamie starts, making a gesture to Dani’s outfit that she immediately regrets. “The—uh—Christmas thing?”

“We get off on Christmas Eve,” Dani says, and Jamie’s mind, apparently, is out to fuck with her because the wording shouldn’t get to her the way that it does.

She hopes her voice is even when she says, “Two more days of this, then?”

“Yeah,” Dani says, eyes locking with hers. “Will you keep the flower shop open the whole week?”

It almost feels like there’s something laced into the words, something unspoken that makes Jamie’s heart speed up, despite the fact that it’s just a question.

She nods, unable to really look away from Dani’s blue eyes.

“Well, this will just be great fun,” Owen says, grinning wide. “You know, Dani, Jamie’s always a little hesitant about the Christmas cheer—” She’s going to smack him. She’s going to smack him right in his face if he— “But I have a feeling this year things might turn out differently.”

Dani, blissfully, doesn’t pick up on the not so subtle implication. She does turn to Jamie, though, slightly wide-eyed. “You don’t love Christmas?”

It makes her want to say she does.

“Ah, no,” she mumbles, truthfully. “Not really.”

Dani’s face is shocked. “Why not?”

Jamie shrugs a little. There’s a lot she could say. She could speak about how Christmas is less fun when you grow up with an alcoholic mother, an absent father and two violent brothers. She could speak about foster care and feeling afraid and being dragged from one place to the next like it didn’t matter. She could speak about small things, petty things, like being teased at school for never getting any presents, things that may not matter in the grand scheme of things, but that matter a whole fucking lot when you’re a kid.

She doesn’t really know Dani, though — and though there is a weird sort of pull in the expectant look on Dani’s face, she stays safe. “It’s just not for me,” she says. “I’m not really one for lights and decorations. Not one for how busy and blown up everything gets. Not one for... people, really.”

Dani is looking at her with a look that’s hard to read. There’s a slight crease between her eyebrows. Then, she gives Jamie a soft smile. “I think I get that.”

It’s strange, the way Jamie thinks that maybe she really could get it. Strange, how there’s something in the way Dani is looking at her, almost like she can sense it’s not the complete story, but that she won’t push if Jamie doesn’t want to speak. Strange that it should feel uncomfortable and it doesn’t. Not a whole lot, anyway.

“What about you, Poppins?” she says, forcing a bit more lightness into the conversation. “Big Christmas fan, I take it?”

Dani grins. “What gave it away? The outfit?” She turns towards Jamie, hand on the hem of her skirt, almost posing — and really, she didn’t have to make Jamie’s heart race this fast for no reason. She smiles. “I do love it. I love the lights and the cold and the way everything feels stressed and busy, but then Christmas Eve comes around and there’s this weird sort of moment when things turn quiet and sweet and... I don’t know, I just think it’s... special.” She blinks, almost like she’s a bit embarrassed. “Anyway.”

Jamie only realizes she’s staring when Owen decides to take the mugs he placed in front of them and break the moment. “Refill, ladies?”

Dani shakes her head. “I should really get home and change into something warmer.” Jamie nods, careful not to show any disappointment on her face. But then Dani says, “Where’s your place?” 

For one heart-stopping, shocking moment Jamie thinks Dani is suggesting—

Her breath cuts short.

“I thought maybe we could walk together? If it’s in the same direction?” Dani adds, and Jamie quickly tries to shake off the heat and find her composure.

 _Jesus_.

She’s way in over her head.

“Yeah, sure,” she says. “Do you know the pub? The one on the corner of High Street?”

Dani’s eyes light up. “That’s on my way!” It’s only then she turns to Owen. “Do you want to join?”

“Oh, no,” Owen says. “No, I’ve got—” He is grinning so widely that it looks ridiculous, even by his standards. “I’ve still got to check the, ah, flour inventory. Of course. You two should go ahead without me.”

One of these days, Jamie is truly going to murder him.

:::

“How are your feet?”

It feels different, being alone with Dani. The streets have quieted down. There’s only a handful of people left who are making their way home along with them, but it feels as though the town is just theirs. The lanterns are casting an orange sort of glow across the pavement and the Christmas lights strung between the houses make everything feel slightly surreal.

What’s also surreal, is that Jamie is walking home with the prettiest girl she’s ever met, in all honesty.

“Not great.” Dani winces a bit, but then shrugs. “I’m sure it will be better tomorrow.”

Jamie pushes her hands deeper into the pockets of her coat, trying to think of something to say and feeling faintly embarrassed about it. It’s not that she’s unsocial per se. She’s just a little out of practice when it comes to girls like... like _Dani_. It doesn’t help that Dani keeps sneaking all these sideways glances at her, smiling softly under the Christmas lights, looking, by all means, like she walked straight out of a movie. Looking like she’s completely content with just walking through the cold in silence together, not bothered by Jamie’s lack of social skills at all. 

Still, Jamie forces herself to at least _try_.

“Can I ask—” she starts. “Why exactly are you here?”

Dani’s brow furrows. “Walking home with you?”

“Here in Bly,” Jamie clarifies. “Why spend the holidays here when you could have your thirty seven Christmas trees at home?” 

Dani’s mouth twitches into a smile. “Seven trees of thirty feet,” she corrects, but it’s soft and teasing, and Jamie instantly feels a little hotter in her coat. She watches Dani take a breath. “It’s...” She hesitates. “I’m not sure I can really talk about it.” 

Jamie is already regretting asking. “Sorry, I didn’t—”

“No,” Dani says. “It’s not—I mean, I’m just not sure I can... explain it very well. It doesn’t make sense to a lot of people. Not to anyone at home at least.” She bites down on her bottom lip and then looks right at Jamie. “Do you know that feeling of falling asleep when you don’t mean to? Like, when you’re just beyond exhausted and you accidentally drift off on the couch or whatever.”

She pauses for a moment, glancing over at Jamie to see if any of it is landing, and Jamie, who isn’t getting it at all, still feels like she needs to give at least a bit of reassurance.

“Kind of...” she says slowly.

“You sleep so deeply,” Dani goes on. “Just... the deepest, most numbing kind of sleep. And then when you wake up, you feel totally disoriented, right?” Jamie gives a slow nod, and Dani pushes on. “You feel so nauseous and so sensitive and everything is just sort of hitting you all at once, and then—then, for a few really awful moments, your home doesn’t feel like your home at all, and you’ll just do anything to...” She takes a breath. “To _not_ feel so fucking lost, you know what I mean?”

Jamie swallows thickly. It’s a sudden sting of emotion, rising all the way from the center of her chest to her neck, cutting off her oxygen for a shaky second. “Yeah,” she says, voice a bit rough. “Yeah, I do know.”

Dani looks at her. “That’s what it was like,” she says. “Iowa. It’s like for the longest time I was sleeping right through it. Not even feeling anything. Just numbness and pure exhaustion, and then—and then I woke up and I... it didn’t feel like mine at all, so I needed to leave.” 

Jamie is quiet. They’ve slowed their walking without her fully realizing it. Dani is fumbling with the edge of Jamie’s scarf that she’s still got wrapped around herself. She looks small and kind of shaken, and Jamie wishes she had a way to respond that would show Dani how much she recognizes that feeling.

Instead, she says, “People can be exhausting.”

Dani’s eyes flick up, gaze heavily locked on Jamie’s. “Yeah,” she says slowly. “Yeah, they really can be.” 

Jamie bites back her bottom lip, fights the urge to run a hand through her hair and play off the intensity of the moment. “How is it now?” she says.

“Being here?”

“Yeah.”

Dani smiles. “Better. I mean—” She waves her hand vaguely. “I’m still getting used to everything of course. All the different ways of having tea and the tiny language differences and, really, I’m, like, barely getting by financially, or I would’ve, you know, taken on a job that requires a different skill set than being practically naked.”

Heat flushes up Jamie’s neck. It’s like her mind trips right over the word _naked_ and completely disfunctions in the next second, because—

“I’m not complaining.”

It’s only when Dani stops walking that Jamie’s realized she’s actually said the words out loud. She freezes to the spot, mortification burning through her, and she’s already turning, already apologizing. “Fuck, I’m so sorry—that was very—”

Dani’s looking at her with a strange sort of expression. Jamie’s heartbeat spikes and she can’t read the look in Dani’s eyes exactly but it’s almost like she’s—

Something cold and icy drops from the sky on Jamie’s nose.

Dani blinks, breaking the moment. “Is that—”

They both turn their faces up to the sky at the same time.

“—snow,” Jamie finishes.

It’s soft and slow, just tiny white drops swirling in the wind around them. Dani makes an excited, squealing sort of sound and even Jamie can’t stop the tiny smile that makes its way onto her face, despite everything, despite the fact that she basically just went ahead and outright admitted to being _—_

“I really do have to get home,” Dani says, then. “I’m having dinner with my roommate.”

“Roommate?” Jamie says. “Do you mean flat mate?”

Dani just grins. “As I said, still finding my way around.”

Jamie smiles back softly. They’ve pretty much come up to the corner of her street and she nods at the pub. “That’s me. Flat above the pub.”

Dani’s eyes follow her and she pauses, almost looks like she’s about to say something else as she looks at the pub, but then she seems to blink the thought away. “See you tomorrow, then?”

Jamie nods, as casually as she can, trying not to read anything into it. “I’ll be there.” She’s searching—either for a better way to end this or for a way to suspend the moment just a little bit longer, she’s not sure. And then she hears herself say, “You should bring a pair of trainers tomorrow.”

Dani’s brow furrows. “What?”

“For your feet.” Jamie runs a hand through her hair. “So you don’t have to walk home in those boots.”

A slow smile spreads on Dani’s face. “Oh,” she says lightly. “I figured if I end up wounded again, I could just come ask you to patch me up.”

It shouldn’t make Jamie’s body feel tight and hot all over.

“Besides,” Dani continues. “The word is _sneakers._ ”

Jamie laughs, can’t help it. She takes a step back. “Good night, Dani.”

Dani gives a little wave as she turns around, snow still swirling around her, falling a little heavier now. She’s barely reached the end of the street when she turns around, suddenly.

“Fuck, I still have your scarf!” she calls out, hand fisted into it. 

Jamie’s heart is beating fast.

“Keep it,” she says back and Dani smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> They just deserve all of the christmas tropes, don't you think? Let me know what you think in the comments! Side note: English is not my first language so this whole American/British thing is a fucking nightmare. Hope it's not too obvious lol.


	3. III.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> We're past Christmas but I hope you'll still enjoy these tropes lol. Have fun!

“So I don’t need to draft any angry emails for you?”

“Oh, no, you totally should,” Dani replies. “It’s a complete labor protection nightmare.”

“But?” Rebecca’s eyes are narrowed in confusion.

“But...” Dani purses her lips, checks once again if the lining of her lipstick is perfect, before rummaging through her make up bag in front of the mirror. “Maybe just... just hold off on actually sending them until after Christmas?”

Rebecca frowns at her from her over her coffee cup. She’s dressed like she’s going to the office; dark, smooth pants and a proper white button-up. Apparently, it gets her in the right headspace to study all day. Dani, who would be sleeping and otherwise in pajamas, doesn’t really understand her roommate’s life decisions.

Then again, Rebecca probably wouldn’t understand Dani’s.

“That doesn’t make sense. You looked frozen to death last night!”

Case in point.

Dani ignores it. To be honest, she can barely even recall just how cold she’d been last night. Can barely recall anything besides the fact that Jamie — _hot_ , charming, flower-shop-owning Jamie — had flirted with her for about the whole way home.

Or—

Well, Dani hopes it had been flirting. She’s not entirely sure, though the comment about her dress code is impossible to brush off. She’s not sure what does and doesn’t count as flirting on this side of the Atlantic. But it had felt like there’d been something. Like every time their eyes met it wasn’t just Dani who had a little trouble looking away.

Either way, it had been more than enough to push any thought of the snow and the cold and the freezing work conditions of the Christmas market to the back of Dani’s mind, overridden instead by feverish fantasies of ending up in that flower shop alone again... Of Jamie sliding her hands up Dani’s bare legs in very different circumstances... Of pushing Jamie back against the counter, running her hands through those gorgeous curls and—

“I’m just saying,” Rebecca continues, cradling her coffee cup and somehow not getting any stains on the pristine white shirt. “If the contractual obligations are truly that subpar, it’s better to make a notification of it right away. We don’t want— _what are you actually doing?_ ”

Dani startles a bit.

“What?” she says, but Rebecca has already put her mug on the table, stepping closer to where Dani is standing in front of the mirror.

“Are you putting on eye shadow?”

Dani feels the blush rise all the way from her neck to her cheeks.

“It’s just a little bit of glitter,” she says, a hint of defensiveness to her voice. She holds up the little box as if it’s enough of an excuse. “I thought it’d be festive.” 

Rebecca narrows her eyes, taking in Dani’s appearance with way more focus than before. Same red skirt, same thigh-high boots, same flimsy top, pulled tight around her chest—

Rebecca’s mouth drops open. “What _bra_ are you wearing?”

Dani lets out a high-pitched, nervous laugh. She runs a hand through her hair, stepping back, creating more space between them, very much trying to ignore the fact that she _is,_ in fact, wearing her nicest bra: black and pretty, with thin straps just above the top of the cups, a hint of which would be visible if someone were to stare just a second too long at— 

“What bra are _you_ wearing?” she tries, a weak attempt to play it down, but Rebecca’s not having any of it.

“Oh my God...” Rebecca’s expression has turned into a mix of shock and exhilaration. She pulls on Dani’s elbow’s, taking in the whole look at once. “Dani Clayton, who are you trying to seduce?”

Just like that, Dani’s complete body heats up.

“No one!” she tries. “No one, I’m—this is not—” She huffs out a breath. “It’s just a bit of glitter!”

“And your best bra!” Rebecca’s gaze drops down, smirk curling around her lips. “Wait, did you match it with your—”

“ _Becs_!”

Dani feels flushed and nervous, feels like she’s going to make a fucking fool out of herself today if it’s apparently this obvious that she’s—

“You look great!” Rebecca says. “You look fantastic! I’m only freaking out because everything just makes sense, suddenly. The lack of angry emails. The way you were acting all distracted at dinner yesterday.”

Dani blushes harder.

“It’s really not...” she tries.

“Who’s the lucky one, then?” Rebecca says. “Does he work—”

“ _She_ ,” Dani cuts in before she can stop herself.

The second she realizes what she’s just admitted to, she wants to clasp her hand over her own mouth. Rebecca’s lips pull up in a blinding smile. 

“Sorry, my bad,” she says, and Dani feels a wave of appreciation rush through her at the realization that this doesn’t seem to be a big deal. “Does _she_ also work at the Christmas Market?”

Dani, still blushing, bites down on her bottom lip. “No.” Rebecca waits, patiently, just buzzing with excited energy, until— “She owns the flower shop across.”

Rebecca makes a little squealing noise and Dani wants to evaporate into thin air.

“Stop,” she says. “Really, Becs, I’m begging you, don’t make this into—”

“What’s her name?”

Dani stares at her, trying to figure out if she’s going to get away with—

“Jamie.” She resigns at the look on Rebecca’s face. “Her name is Jamie.”

:::

Dani is being good.

She’s being good and patient and she does her freaking _job_ as well as she can because, after all, that’s what she’s getting paid to do—not enough money, that’s for sure, but still. She is working very hard to focus on the kids and make it through the morning shift and not get distracted by the fact that the flower shop — and the girl who runs said flower shop — is literally across the street.

She even went and used the bathroom at Owen’s place. Like she’s supposed to.

It’s even colder today than it was yesterday. The snow that started falling last night as she and Jamie were walking home, has covered the pavements completely. Dani has to keep rubbing her gloved hands together, has to keep jumping up and down to keep the blood flowing in her veins. She’s got Jamie’s gray woolen scarf wrapped around her shoulders and every time she pulls it a little tighter around her, it’s like she can hear the echo of Jamie’s comment. _Keep it._

Intellectually — that is, _rationally_ — Dani knows that Jamie had only meant that she keep it for today, or for the duration of this job, maybe.

But deludedly — that is, _emotionally —_ Dani feels like she’s a sixteen year old girl in a movie, whose football boyfriend gave her his letterman jacket to wear to his games.

She keeps stealing glances at the front of the flower shop, keeps hoping to catch the moment that Jamie will go outside to busy herself with those Christmas trees. But, though various people continue to walk in and out, she doesn’t see Jamie anywhere.

Not that she should be thinking about her in the first place. 

There are other things to pay attention to. Crying children. Parents who are in a hurry. Taking photo after photo after photo. Dani is glad enough to have the distraction. Despite the cold, she feels a bit more in her element today, a bit more settled with her tasks and the sequence of events. It helps that she’s in good enough company, of course.

Grace had looked at her just a little bit strangely this morning when she greeted the other girls, and Dani would have felt offended if not for the fact that Ava had promptly whistled under her breath and Charlie had outright told her, “Damn, you’re looking totally lush today, babe.”

It had made her blush like crazy but none of them had commented anything else.

Not that there _is_ anything to comment on. 

She’s being good. She’s not fantasizing about quitting her job and just spending the rest of the days leading up to Christmas in a flower shop. She’s not. Not yet, anyway. But then—

An unexpected turn of events. Just a tiny moment of luck. A magical hint of a Christmas miracle, maybe.

Either way, everything changes. 

:::

Dani recognizes the young girl from yesterday, but only _after_ the kid knocks right into her.

There’s a little moment of commotion; a child running right past Dani, his fancy shoes slip-sliding over the pavement, followed by a woman’s exclamation — _Miles Dominic Wingrave!_ — and Dani is already turning, is already trying to figure out where the sound is coming from, when—

“Oh!” Dani only just manages to gets out, right as the girl collides with her in a blurry moment of snow and pink and the shock of almost being knocked off balance by a small child. “Oh, gosh! I didn’t see you there! Are you okay?”

She only barely succeeds in steadying the girl enough to keep her on her feet.

The girl blinks up at her, cheeks flushed.

“Oh,” she says, then. “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you.”

“That’s okay!” Dani rushes. “No problem at all. Are you fine? Are you hurt in any way?”

The girl is still looking up at her, right as a woman appears in front of Dani’s sight. She’s beautiful, with a calm and grounding energy despite the fact that she looks a little overwhelmed. “I am so sorry. Have you seen a little boy running past?” Dani opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, the woman already breathes out a sigh of relief. “Oh, there he is!”

She nods over to where the boy is standing to the side of the Christmas stage, where a few other children have started to build an enormous snow man.

“Children these days,” the woman says, shaking her head a bit. “They just keep running off whenever they please, don’t they?”

Dani offers a half smile. “Excitement about the snow?”

The woman smiles back at her. “And who could blame them?” She pauses for a moment and then, unexpectedly extends a hand for Dani to shake. “I’m Hannah Grose.”

“Oh,” Dani says, surprised. Still, she takes Hannah Grose’s gloved hand. “Dani. Dani Clayton.”

“I don’t mean to be frank or anything,” Hannah is quick to explain. “I just figured, as an American, you must be new in town?”

Dani nods. “I am.”

“The holidays can be difficult if you don’t know many people,” Hannah continues, kindly. “So, now, at least, you know me.”

It’s so unexpectedly nice that Dani feels a warm rush of appreciation for the woman. “Have you lived in Bly for a long time?”

Hannah nods. “I’ve been housekeeper of the Wingrave estate since before these two were even born.” She nods at the two children, and Dani, a little guiltily, and belatedly, realizes the small girl is still standing right next to her.

“Hey.” She crouches down a bit. “How are you doing? Are you sure you’re not hurt in any way?”

The girl shakes her hand. “I’m perfectly splendid.”

It makes Dani smile. “What’s your name?”

“Flora,” the girl replies easily. “It means _flower_ in Latin.”

And just like that—

“Is that so?” Dani says. She pauses and then — she can’t resist — leans in a little closer and says, almost conspicuously, “You know where they have really pretty flowers?”

Flora’s eyes widen with anticipation as she shakes her head.

“Right there.” Dani points to the shop. “The most beautiful flowers in the world, I’m telling you.”

She bites down on her bottom lip to keep herself from adding something unnecessary, ridiculous and, not to mention, inappropriate, like: _The girl who owns the shop is really beautiful, too._

Flora is already pulling on Hannah’s sleeve. “Oh, Mrs. Grose, can we go? Can we go see the flowers?”

Hannah frowns, glances over at where Miles is still standing near the children making a snow man. “I don’t know, Flora, we’d have to wait for Miles and—”

“What if I just look through the windows,” Flora is already saying, ready to negotiate. “Please, Mrs. Grose, it’s only just across the street.” 

“Maybe once Miles—”

“I won’t run off, I promise! I pinky promise!”

“Flora—”

“I can take her.”

It’s only when Hannah’s eyes flit up to Dani’s that she realizes what she’s said out loud. She fumbles a bit under the scrutiny.

“If that makes things any easier,” Dani hurries to explain. “I can just walk her across the street and stay with her for a moment. I, um—” She hesitates, but then realizes she wants to say the words more than anything else. “I know the owner, actually.”

Hannah’s expression softens. “Don’t you have to stay here, though, darling? With the Santa...”

She trails off and just gestures to the outfit. 

“I’m on break,” Dani lies.

She’s hoping, _praying_ , that to any of the other girls — not to mention, Peter Quint — her conversation with Hannah Grose will look like she’s just doing her job: talking to the children, inviting families to come check out the Santa experience.

“Are you sure?” Hannah is saying. “This seems like too much trouble to—”

Flora has already comfortably taken a hold of Dani’s hand. 

“Oh, no!” Dani rushes. “No trouble at all. Really.”

She’s sounding way too eager, but she can’t bring herself to care. Here it is. Her golden ticket. Her excuse. If she weren’t so ready to see Jamie again, she might think it pathetic. But at this point, she’s beyond coming off as unaffected.

“All right, then,” Hannah says. “I will go get Miles. It’ll only be a minute.”

She sends a grateful smile in Dani’s direction.

Dani grins down at Flora. “You ready to see some flowers?”

:::

Jamie’s smile makes Dani’s body feel like fireworks are exploding inside of it.

“Did you get lost?” she says, grinning widely. “Bathroom’s at Owen’s place, y’know.”

Dani feels her cheeks flush. “No, I know, I...”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish the sentence because right that very moment, Flora makes the most excited sound. “Oh, these are perfectly splendid!”

Jamie’s eyes flit over, and then she says, to Dani, “Friend of yours?”

“Sorta,” is the only thing Dani manages to get out, because for some reason Jamie decides this is the perfect moment to pass right by her through the cramped aisle of the shop.

She might be imagining it, but it feels like Jamie’s fingers brush hers for just a second as she does so. She’s so overwhelmed by the brief sensation of it that she pretty much misses the first minute of Flora and Jamie’s conversation. She just stands in front of the register, a little stunned, and only picks up on it once Flora’s laugh echoes through the shop.

“That’s not true!”

“Is too,” Jamie says. “I’m telling ya. Some plants can eat children. It’s a worse fate than being on Santa’s naughty list.”

“No!” Flora laughs. “I don’t believe you.”

“ _Cephalotus follicularis,_ ” Jamie says. “The Australian pitcher plant. Carnivorous little bugger, that one. And if you’re small enough to fall into its pitcher... Let’s say, as small as a small child...” She looks serious for all of one heartbeat, but then a grin breaks on her face. “But no worries, I don’t allow that plant into this shop.”

“What are you two talking about?” Dani says, walking over.

Flora is still half laughing, too much so to speak. But Jamie looks over at Dani kind of softly and says, “I just warned your friend Flora here not to touch the petals of the flowers or her fingers might be eaten off by malicious plants.”

“Don’t tell Mrs. Grose that Jamie said that,” Dani says, though it’s hard to keep the smile off her face.

Flora rushes to a different section of the store, still giggling.

Jamie turns back to Dani. “You look less cold today.”

Dani, blushing, has to bite on her bottom lip to keep herself from blurting out, _Are you saying I’m hot?_

It feels like a step too far—even with the way that Jamie keeps looking at her with those perfect eyes, keeps shifting forward into Dani’s space more or less consciously.

She pulls on the edge of the scarf instead and says, “This sure helps a lot.”

Jamie grins. “How’s work today?”

Dani glances through the window. Even through the condensation on the glass, she can see Peter Quint in the middle of the square, looking annoyed at one thing or another. “Well, I’m on break when I’m not supposed to be, so...”

“I see,” Jamie says. “Bunking off, are we?”

Dani blinks at her. “You know, one of these days you’ve got to start speaking English to me.”

Jamie lets out a laugh, runs a hand through her hair in a way that should _not_ be making Dani’s mouth so dry as she says, “Skiving off? Skipping? C’mon, you Americans are the ones who need to learn some proper English.”

“ _Pro-per_ _English_ ,” Dani echoes, in the worst imitation of Jamie’s accent. “Right. Gotcha.”

Jamie’s about to open her mouth and say something else, but then the bell on the door rings and two ladies walk in. Immediately, Jamie straightens and walks over to them to assist them with whatever bouquet they’re wishing to assemble.

Dani tries not to stare too much, but it’s difficult when Jamie’s just so damn attractive no matter what she busies herself with; even when it’s just pointing out different color combinations, even when it’s just pushing up the sleeves of her sweater to pull flowers out of a bucket on the floor.

“Look!” Flora suddenly yells, appearing next to her again. “Mistletoe!”

She points over Dani’s shoulder, and Dani turns.

“Oh,” she says, because, indeed, hanging from the ceiling are a couple of branches with red Christmas ribbons tied around them.

For no reason at all, Dani feels her cheeks go hot.

She’s about to make some offhanded comment about them to Flora, but then, the doorbell rings again, and this time it’s Mrs. Grose stepping across the doorstep, a little boy who must be Miles trailing behind her.

“There you are!” Hannah says, when Flora runs up to her.

She gives Dani a wide smile. “Oh, you were right, the shop is gorgeous!”

“G’morning,” Jamie says, appearing from behind the register. “Can I help you with anything?”

They make brief small talk about the shop and about Christmas plans, and Dani really has no reason to linger, but for some reason she can’t find it in herself yet to return to the market even though she’s technically on the clock. She’s more than happy to stay in the warmth of Jamie’s flower shop and chat.

Flora, meanwhile, is busy trying to persuade Hannah to buy flowers. “Can we get the pink ones? Or the pretty red ones by the door? Or mistletoe?”

At that, Dani’s eyes catch Jamie’s, catches the slight frown on Jamie’s face as she says. “Mistletoe? I don’t sell any—”

For the third time in under five minutes, the sound of the doorbell interrupts them, but Dani’s too locked in Jamie’s gaze that she doesn’t pay attention to it until the too-familiar voice cuts through the air.

“Am I’m paying you to chitchat your time away in a fucking flower shop?”

Dani spins around the second the voice registers. “Mr. Quint!”

He looks fuming. “We’ve got customers, Dani. We’ve got dozens of people in line, ready to receive some fucking Christmas cheer—” Mrs. Grose scoffs audibly, looking like she’s two seconds away from covering Flora’s ears, but Peter Quint isn’t done. “You’ve got one job and that job is to look pretty and I’m not paying you to do that in some fucking—”

“Excuse me.”

Jamie’s voice is icy cold.

Dani’s heart is racing in her chest, her hands suddenly a bit clammy. She’s not used to being yelled at, not used to messing up, and though the wording is questionable, he _is_ right to point out that this is her job and that she’s not supposed to—

“Let’s go, Dani.”

He moves to grab her arm, but Jamie steps right up to him. “I said, _excuse me._ ”

“Who are you?” Peter Quint bites out at Jamie, and it’s clearly the wrong thing to say.

There’s a moment of total silence in which Dani watches the anger spread through Jamie’s body like a slow fire, and then she’s off.

“First off, mate,” she bites out, her accent thickening. “I’m the owner of this place. This is my shop, all right? So as long as you’re here, you better watch what you say and who you say it to, you got that? Second—” She jabs a finger to his chest. “I could get you in a whole lot of trouble for the way you’ve been treating your so-called employees.”

Peter Quint’s eyes narrow but Jamie isn’t done.

“Just because you get off on forcing girls to dress up in next to no clothing when it’s below zero degrees outside, doesn’t mean ACAS will be happy to hear about it,” Jamie bites out, and Dani feels something hot flaring low in her body.

“Look—” Peter Quint starts.

“I’m not finished,” Jamie snaps. “I suggest you take yourself back outside and re-think your choices, before I’ll make you regret them. Grow up, give people proper breaks when they need them, and for Christ’s sake, allow these girls to wear their bloody coats in the middle of winter, you hear me?”

Peter Quint takes the tiniest step back and Jamie jabs her finger right into his chest one more time.

“And for the record, you don’t _pay_ her to look pretty.” Jamie’s eyes flash. “She’s fucking stunning as is, and you’ve got nothing to do with it.”

Dani’s whole body flushes with heat. 

As if she suddenly realizes what she said, Jamie swallows thickly, a sudden blush rising on her own cheeks, and Dani can’t look away. Can’t feel anything besides burning attraction and the dizzying urge to push herself forward, wrap her arm around Jamie’s neck and—

Peter Quint scoffs and turns around, back to the door, cutting Dani the most condescending look as he says, “You’ve got one minute.”

The door slams and the most deafening silence falls over the shop.

“Sorry,” Jamie says finally, running a hand through her hair, suddenly self-conscious and turning towards Mrs. Grose as she rambles out, “I’m truly sorry for the swearing, especially with—I just—”

“It serves him right,” Hannah cuts in, a flash of anger in her eyes. “That man is a disgrace to this town.”

Miles and Flora both look equal parts thrilled and terrified.

Dani’s face still feels like it’s on fire.

“It’s my fault,” she breathes out, a little unsteadily, fumbling with her gloves. “I shouldn’t have left when I was supposed to stay around.”

“Hey,” Jamie says, stepping over to her. “He’s the one at fault, okay? He’s not supposed to be treating you like that. Like he owns you. You’re not his property.”

Dani looks up, breath getting caught at the back of her throat with how close Jamie is, how serious her face as she says it. And just like that, Dani’s mind flashes to Eddie. How it’s the _exact_ thing that they could never agree on. The way it moved back and forth between them in fights and talks and silences; a never ending question.

And now, here, in some town in England, in the middle of a flower shop, a girl she barely knows is giving her an answer. Is, without even knowing it, telling Dani the one thing she needed to hear all along: _you’re not crazy, you’re not his property._

She reaches out and takes Jamie’s hand. It’s bold for a moment and Jamie’s mouth parts in surprise, like she didn’t expect _that_ to happen. Dani’s heartbeat stutters and she already moves to pull her hand back, but Jamie’s hold on her fingers tightens, tension crackling in the air between them as Dani bites down on her bottom lip, looks up again, trying to see if—

Hannah Grose clears her throat. “The children and I have got to get going.” 

Dani jerks her hand back.

“ _Right,_ ” she says, like she didn’t just completely forget Mrs. Grose was there. “Me too! I have—there’s work—I’ve got... I have to work on the—the work.”

Flora giggles.

Dani is blushing so hard that she can’t even look Jamie in the eyes. She’s already got a hand on the door, is already halfway back into the cold when Jamie’s voice sounds behind her.

“Come back later?”

It makes Dani’s stomach flutter. She smiles and nods.

_Later._

:::

Peter Quint disappears before the end of Dani’s afternoon shift is over and doesn’t return. She can’t help but think that maybe Jamie scared him a bit, which makes her feel both insanely smug and kind of worried for her job.

Grace tells her to stop worrying.

“I’m glad the prick’s fucked off to somewhere else,” she says. “If it’s up to me, he stays away ‘til after Christmas.”

Dani grins.

They’re almost at the end of the day. The square is getting more and more empty with people leaving for their homes. The guy who plays Santa Claus has left a while ago and Ava and Charlie are busying themselves with the last of the children, waving at them and helping them with their snowmen. Owen’s come out of his bakery, too, helping some girls build a snow pony and cracking jokes.

_Only a few more minutes,_ Dani thinks.

A few more minutes and another day will be over.

A few more minutes and maybe she’ll make her way over to the flower shop and see what Jamie’s up to.

Of course, the exact moment she thinks it, Jamie steps outside and Dani’s heartbeat speeds up instantly. She watches Jamie start to pull the Christmas trees inside, watches as Jamie spots her, too, giving her a tiny nod and a smile that makes Dani feel hot all over.

“Oh, she’s _fit_.” 

Dani jerks her gaze away. “ _What_?”

Grace’s expression turns smug. “Dani, love, don’t pretend with me.” She slings her arm across Dani’s shoulder. “Didn’t think your type would’ve been quite so... should I say _scruffy_? But I can see the appeal.”

Dani feels her eyes go wide.

Fuck, she really needs to work on her poker face.

She’s about to respond, about to say anything to deflect or joke or play it down, but before she gets the chance, Grace jumps away from her, yelping. A fraction of a second later something hits Dani’s back as well: icy cold and wet.

They whip around at the same time.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Owen says, keeping his face as straight as he can next to a laughing Ava and Grace. “It seems like the two of you have got some snow on your back.”

Grace screams at him. She’s already jumping forward, bending down to gather snow and trying to throw as much as she can right in Owen’s face. Dani has about two seconds to decide whether to join or step away, but then Charlie hits her square in the chest with an enormous snowball, and just like that the fight has started.

It’s a whirlwind.

Some of the kids manage to strike a few hits to Dani’s legs, but then they’re shrieking, running away from her as she scoops up snow in her arms, threatening to dump it right over their heads.

Ava and Grace keep going for each other’s faces, while Charlie turns on Owen, still standing right next to her and rubs snow all over his moustache in a friendly fire attack.

By the time Dani makes it across the street, her clothes are soaked through. She’s shivering, even in her coat, gloves completely wet with snow. Miraculously, no one has hit her in the face yet, and she’s about to hide away behind one of the Christmas trees in front of Jamie’s store—

_Whoosh._

She only just catches sight of the snowball coming her way and then her whole vision whites out; snow in her hair, in her mouth, dripping down from her eyes to her neck.

“Would ya look at that. Just when I thought your look couldn’t get any better.”

Dani’s mouth drops open and she’s sputtering on the snow. 

Jamie grins. “Uh oh, am I in trouble?”

Dani lurches forward.

:::

They end up back in the flower shop, just the two of them. Somehow, in the middle of Owen rallying a team of kids together against Ava, Charlie and Grace, Jamie’s hand finds Dani and she’s being pulled into the flower shop.

“If you’ve still got snowballs in your pockets and you think you can attack me where no one can see—”

“Ceasefire,” Jamie interrupts, locking the door. “Just for a moment. Those kids are fucking merciless.”

Dani’s breath is coming out unevenly, but she still laughs, feeling giddy and wild with excitement.

Jamie’s shop is warm and dry and dark, and Dani doesn’t even mind that she’s covered from head to toe in snowflakes. All the sound from the street has completely faded away. It feels like all of a sudden, the world has shifted and now nothing exists outside of this room and its flowers and the two of them.

Dani feels both thrilled and nervous at the sudden change.

“Let’s get these off.”

Jamie shrugs out of her coat and motions for Dani to do the same.

“Thanks, by the way,” Dani says, jumping a little from one foot to the other, watching the way Jamie drapes them over the counter, right next to each other.

“For what?”

“That thing with Peter Quint.”

Jamie turns back to her. “He was being unreasonable.”

Dani nods, fumbles a little with the hem of her skirt. “Yeah, he... he was. But...” She shrugs, not really sure how to say it. “I don’t know, I’m just glad you said it. Back home, I... well, people don’t like it when you make an issue out of something. My mom—” 

She cuts herself off, feeling like she’s saying way too much for no reason at all. Feeling like it’s too much to go from the excitement of the snowball fight to this; to everything close and personal and the taste of a bittersweet memory suddenly on her tongue.

But Jamie’s only moving closer to her, looking at Dani like she can say anything. Like she wants Dani talk about it.

And so she takes a breath and does.

“My mother, she is always telling me to just suck it up, you know. Don’t complain. Be good. Be nice. A job’s a job. _Don’t be difficult, Dani. You have nowhere else to go. You can’t just leave and_ —” She takes a breath, cutting herself off for the second time. “Anyway, it’s just... It was a nice thing you did and I wanted to say thanks. Because sometimes I need the reminder that I _can,_ you know. Speak up. Or say no. Or... or leave.” She searches for Jamie’s eyes. “Find something better.”

Jamie stares at her for a moment, before nodding. “You can,” she says, and then, “God knows I did.”

It feels warm in the center of Dani’s chest. “Yeah?”

Jamie nods. “Didn’t think I would ever create a space like this, y’know.” She glances around at the shop. “Something that I made. That’s mine to take care of. That’s so far away from where I’m from.”

She doesn’t say it but Dani can hear it anyway: _from who I’ve been._ She shifts forward a bit. All her muscles are stiff from the cold. She can feel snow dripping from her hair down her collarbones and she’s still shivering in the thin fabric of her outfit, but the everything feels like a slow fire; the intimacy of the conversation spreading between them, the way Jamie keeps looking at her, all those beautiful flowers around them.

“You did,” Dani says, smiling as she looks around. “And it’s beautiful.”

Jamie’s lips twitch as she looks at Dani. “It is.”

Dani smiles softly, and then—

Her eyes catch on the something hanging from the ceiling; small, green branches tied together with a red ribbon. Flora’s voice echoing in her mind. _Mistletoe._

Her breath catches at the back of her throat, desire working itself up from the pit of her stomach, through her chest, into her head, making everything hazy and hot; the thought of closing the last bit of space between them; the thought of her fingers sliding into Jamie’s perfect curls, tangling and pulling—

“You’ve got snow in your hair,” Jamie says, and Dani kisses her.

It’s soft and sweet, and for one moment, everything is frozen as Jamie makes a tiny noise of surprise against Dani’s mouth. But then, Dani’s hand slides up Jamie’s jaw, and Jamie’s lips part under the pressure of her mouth, and they’re _kissing_.

Before she can really hold herself back, Dani’s body sways forward. One of Jamie’s hands falls to her hip in response and the feeling of her fingers on the fabric of Dani’s skirt is enough to make her sigh into Jamie’s mouth.

It’s soft and sweet—until it isn’t.

It’s soft and sweet—and then it heats up like a fire.

Jamie’s arm tightens around Dani’s waist and Dani licks right into Jamie’s mouth, reveling in the sound it draws from Jamie’s throat. 

They kiss and kiss, and then Dani is completely out of breath and has to pull back, just for a moment.

Jamie’s eyes are wide. “Dani...”

And Dani, feeling suddenly like she needs to explain herself, points up at the ceiling and breathes out, “Mistletoe.”

Jamie’s expression turns to one of confusion. “I don’t even sell mistle—” She glances up, the frown on her face deepening even more. Then, her eyes narrow, “That’s holly, actually.”

“Oh,” Dani says, blinking.

They’re still close, still touching almost completely. Dani’s fingers are on the soft, smooth skin of Jamie’s neck, Jamie’s hips pressed right against hers. 

“Is that...” Dani’s heart is racing high up in her throat and all she wants to do is pull Jamie into her and kiss some more. “Do you... does it matter?”

The corner of Jamie’s mouth curls up. “I mean, if it’s not mistletoe...”

Dani’s body tenses.

“Right,” she says, “Right, of course—I get it, I’m—”

Jamie laughs and kisses her again, kisses her hard and hungrily, kisses the words right from Dani’s lips.

And Dani wants to shove her for teasing her like that, but she’s too busy kissing back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Hope this was nice! Let me know what you think in the comments!


	4. IV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> A Christmas update in February... I know, I know. But when the whole year has basically been March, do we really care? Hope you all enjoy this last bit of festivity!

“Mornin’!”

Jamie scowls at Owen from over the counter. “Why are you smiling like it’s Christmas already?”

Owen pushes a cup of coffee towards her. “It’s Christmas _Eve_. Besides, can’t a man just be excited to see his best friend?”

She rolls her eyes. “We’re not best friends.”

Owen just grins and Jamie takes the cup anyway, glad to warm her hands on something. It’s early, not even seven in the morning, but the wind is so much stronger today than it was yesterday, the snow falling so heavily that Jamie could barely see through it as she made her way to Owen’s just now.

The coffee is hot and bitter and Jamie sighs as she takes a sip.

It’s almost good enough to distract her from the fact that Owen is smirking at her in a manner that’s way too chipper for the hour. Almost. His arms are covered in flour all the way up to his elbows but he’s paused all work, looking like he’s just waiting for something to happen any second, though Jamie doesn’t know what.

“What’s up with you, then?” she asks when Owen’s smile only grows wider and she can’t really stand his stupid face for much longer.

“Oh, no,” he says, “I think I should be asking you that question.”

There’s something to his voice that makes Jamie frown, something that makes her feel like she’s missing something, although the hint of a realization begins to present itself, the slightest suspicion that Owen might—

But that would be—

“It’s just that you look very happy.” Owen says, grinning.

“Happy?”

“Excited about the day ahead.”

“What? I never look—”

“Dare I say, _festive_ even.” 

She narrows her eyes at him. “Owen...”

He slams his dusty flour hands right on the counter, crashing through the last bit of his reservation. “ _Did it work_?”

Jamie’s eyes widen. “What are you—”

“The mistletoe!”

There’s a moment between hearing the word and registering it for what it is; a wide second of space where Owen looks like he’s going to burst right out of his skin and all Jamie feels is confusion, because surely, they were alone yesterday.

Yesterday, when Dani had pulled her close...

Slid her hand right into Jamie’s hair...

Mouth so hot and needy and—

“It was _you_?” Jamie cuts out.

Owen’s stare breaks open with glee. “I knew it was going to work! I knew it. God, there is nothing like some good old Christmas mistletoe magic to get my best friend to finally—”

She smacks him with the open bag of flour, which is the first thing her hands can reach from where she’s standing. Half of the bag’s contents hit Owen square in the chest, making the flour swoosh right up his neck and into his face. He doesn’t seem half bothered, just keeps laughing, blowing white clouds into the air with every sputtering word he manages to get out. 

“This is so great! Tell me everything!” 

“You’re such a goddamn prick,” Jamie bites out, feeling the blush of embarrassment rise on her cheeks.

She can’t believe this is happening. Can’t believe she can’t even enjoy a single day without Owen sticking his bloody right nose into her—

_Love life,_ she thinks, uninvited and hotly.

The words are way too much for where they’re at, her and Dani, because fuck, it’s only been two days. _Two days._ And yet those words are the only ones that come to mind, wild and crazy as they may be.

Suddenly, she’s blushing for entirely different reasons.

Suddenly, all she can feel is the heat of Dani’s kiss, the desperate way her fingers had grabbed at Jamie’s clothes, like she’d do anything to get closer.

“It wasn’t even mistletoe, you idiot,” she snaps, anything to get the attention back on Owen instead of her flushed cheeks. “It was holly. A fool could see the difference.”

Owen just wiggles his eyebrows. “Still did the trick, didn’t it?”

She wants to punch him.

It’s annoying when he’s right.

“When did you even put it up?” she says. “Did you sneak into my shop? I could report this as breaking and entering, you nosey little—”

“Did it when you were in the back,” Owen says, the proudest grin on his face. “Jamie, seriously, this is so exciting! If all it takes is a little mistletoe—”

“It was holly!” Something defensive coils in her chest. “And I don’t need you to interfere with—with my—” Again, she chokes on the words. “With me and Dani.”

Owen’s grins widens. “Apparently, I do.” His eyes glint with joy. “Is she working today?”

A horrible, dreadful thought crosses Jamie’s mind. Her eyes go wide, and then she’s pushing a finger against Owen’s flour-covered chest. “I swear, if I even hear you say a single thing to her today about any of this, I’m going to shove an entire Christmas tree right up you—”

There’s a knock on the window.

Jamie turns, but not fast enough, and Owen’s entire face lights up.

“Well, will you look at that,” he says. “Feels like Christmas already, doesn’t it?”

:::

The sight of Dani sitting on one of the stools in front of Owen’s counter should not be having this effect on Jamie’s heart, but it does.

“What are you doing here?” is the first thing she says.

Dani’s looking soft and a little bit sleepy still. She’s got a white, woolen sweater on over her Christmas outfit, but it’s nothing to chill the sudden heat in Jamie’s body as she tries very hard not to stare at Dani’s legs.

“Wanted to see you before work,” Dani says. “Walked over to the shop, but it was empty so I thought I’d check here.” 

Owen beams, like he’s personally responsible for the good fortune of this meeting, and Jamie’s going to lose it. _Lose it_ at the thought that she’s somehow stuck in Owen’s café right now instead of in the privacy of her own shop with Dani. At the thought that Dani had _wanted to see her_. At the fact that she just goes ahead and says it. Like it doesn’t make Jamie’s whole body tense with desire.

Already, her mind is flashing to the kiss.

The _kiss_ ; it had fucking unraveled her.

They’d only stopped once someone hit a snowball against the fogged up windows of Jamie’s shop, and even then, Jamie had felt like it wouldn’t take much effort on Dani’s part to make Jamie just charge forward and kiss her again.

She’s been feeling high on the thought for the last fifteen hours

“Well, I,” Owen interrupts the very inappropriate and dangerous line of Jamie’s thinking, “also wanted to see _you_ , Dani.” He’s wiped most of the flour off his face, but there’s still a little bit floating through the air as he turns to put a plate on the counter. “I need you to taste test these cookies. Jamie’s been of no use, so I need your refined American palette.”

Dani giggles and then bites on her bottom lip as she looks over at Jamie, and Jamie’s heart is going to explode right on the spot, even without the insane amount of sugar that Owen’s undoubtedly put into these cookies.

“Oh, these are _good_ ,” Dani says.

She makes a sound of satisfaction that’s nearly a moan and Jamie’s got to clench her fingers into a fist to keep from responding too visibly.

She’s blushing.

She’s blushing and Owen can probably tell, and Jamie’s never going to hear the end of this, especially when Dani seems to hold Jamie’s gaze on purpose. She smirks, right before licking the tiny crumbs of the cookie off her fingers, dragging all of Jamie’s attention right to her mouth, and Jamie knows she’s staring but she can’t pull her gaze away.

Owen is still looking like a kid on Christmas morning. “So, Dani, are you feeling the Christmas spirit yet? Ready for the big _holly_ -day?”

He wiggles his eyebrows at Jamie.

She’s definitely going to kill him.

“Totally,” Dani says, and then, she turns to Jamie. “Funny thing, I realized my apartment doesn’t actually have a Christmas tree yet.”

A smile tugs at the corners of Jamie’s mouth. “Oh, no,” she says, unable to stop herself from leaning a bit into Dani’s space. “What will you do about that? It’s almost Christmas.”

Dani seems more than happy to play along. “Thought maybe you would know someone?”

“As a matter of fact I do,” Jamie says. “Top quality trees, too.”

“Lucky me,” Dani says, her smile growing even wider.

There’s so much in the way she says it; something so flirty and teasing that Jamie can feel it spread through her whole body. So much so that she hears herself say, “Want to come have a look and pick one out?”

“Now?” Dani says.

Jamie shrugs. “I can keep it safe for you during the day. Make sure no one else gets their hands on it. God knows these town people get greedy the day before Christmas.” 

Dani hops off the stool and if she wasn’t feeling so suddenly eager herself, Jamie would be aware of what this must look like to Owen. As is, though, with the prospect of being alone with Dani in just a minute, she can’t even be bothered to be embarrassed.

::: 

“So, where are the trees?” Dani says.

Jamie’s shoulders tense. She’s flipped on the lights in the shop, turning back to find Dani looking at her with an expectant glint in her eyes.

“Oh,” she says, and then, playing it off as quickly as she can, “Yeah, they’re in the back. I’ll... I mean, you can—”

She gestures vaguely for Dani to pass by her to the backroom, which is mostly storage, as well as the excess of Nordmann trees that she can’t fit out in front. Dani gives her an easy smile, and then brushes past her, quick enough for it to barely be anything, but slow enough for a hint of her perfume to linger.

Jamie feels her breath quicken.

She doesn’t really know what’s happening, feels like she can’t think clearly. Her thoughts are all tripping up, one over the next, part of her wondering if Dani truly wants to look at the trees right now, the other if she’s even _thought_ about the kiss the way that Jamie has: half delirious after they’d agreed to just part ways in front of the pub instead of—

Jamie had mumbled something about not wanting to rush things and Dani had grinned at her, had mumbled something back about manners, before kissing Jamie so deeply on the corner of the street that she’d almost backtracked instantly on her decision to sleep alone.

And now, Dani’s walking into the backroom of Jamie’s shop to pick out a Christmas tree.

“Right, so,” Jamie says, “Were you looking for anything specific or...?”

Maybe she’d been wrong to assume Dani felt the same way, she’s thinking now. Maybe, to Dani, it was just a spur of the moment thing, something that belonged to yesterday and is already in the past, if the fact that this is how it’s happening is any indication. This, being Dani walking between the different Christmas trees like she’s a regular customer, and Jamie about losing her mind over the fact that it’s just the two of them.

“Just a cute, little festive one,” Dani says, and no one has ever described a Christmas tree quite like that to Jamie, but apparently Dani can without it sounding too ridiculous. “Don’t want to scare my roommate off with something too crazy.”

“Right,” Jamie says.

She feels flustered and on edge, and it annoys her that she can’t seem to read the moment very well, that Dani just keeps asking her questions about pine needles and whether she needs to get a plastic stand or a wooden cross, like this is _nothing_.

Eventually, she sets apart a ‘cute, little festive one’ that Dani is completely giddy about.

She reaches out and squeezes Jamie’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Jamie says, and it sounds breathless.

Dani’s eyes linger on her face, and just like that, the tension is back full force. Jamie’s heartrate picks up. She inhales a bit sharply, wonders if it’s too much to just pull on Dani’s hand and close the space between them.

But then, Dani says breezily, “Should we go back to Owen’s?”

“What?” Jamie says, unable to really hold back the confusion that spills into the word.

Dani’s expression is neutral. “Or was there something else you wanted?”

Jamie swallows hard. She glances down, pulling her hand out of Dani’s grip abruptly so she can run it through her hair.

“No,” she says, but it sounds a bit gruff. She can’t help it. “I mean, if you’ve got your tree, I guess we can just—”

Soft lips land on hers.

Jamie’s so surprised by it that it takes her mind a second to catch up, and when she does, Dani’s pulling back already, a grin breaking on her face. “You’re so fun to mess with.”

Jamie’s eyes go wide. “ _Dani._ For fuck’s sake, you nearly—”

Dani kisses her again, and Jamie shuts up.

:::

With every passing second, Jamie’s getting more and more desperate. Dani’s hand has slipped right under the fabric of her shirt, moving mindlessly— _frustratingly_ —from Jamie’s side to her back, fingers digging harder into Jamie’s skin as she continues to deepen the kiss.

“Dani,” she breathes out against Dani’s lips, the word sounding like a plea, though she’s not sure what she’s pleading for.

She knows they can’t do this here, knows the shop is going to open soon, knows she can’t allow Dani to back her into the wall like this, with her hips, with her entire _body—_

“Dani,” she says again, and this time Dani hums in response.

She mouths at Jamie’s neck. “Yes?”

“We—”

She feels Dani’s teeth on her pulse point, followed by the hot soothing press of her tongue against the same spot, and suddenly can’t finish the sentence. Her hips buck forward and Dani makes a sound like she _likes_ that—and nothing about this is appropriate for seven thirty in the morning. 

“God,” she hears herself say instead. “God, Dani, you’re killing me here.”

Dani pulls back a bit. “Want me to stop?”

Jamie yanks on Dani’s woolen jumper, which she’s still wearing over the Christmas outfit, and kisses her again.

_Slow,_ she thinks to herself, almost desperately, _slow it down._

Dani’s got no mind for slow, apparently. Her hand slides right up Jamie’s front, fingers so, so close to the edge of Jamie’s bra that it makes Jamie gasp.

And yet, this is where Dani pauses, like she had last night.

Jamie hadn’t really paid a lot of attention to it yesterday. She’d been way too focused on trying to measure all the conflicting instincts inside her body: wanting to do the _right_ thing and asking Dani out on a proper date before going any further and yet being unable to stop kissing her; realizing it’s not exactly romantic to rush this against the counter of her flower shop like teenagers unable to behave themselves and yet wanting nothing else but to slide her hand up Dani’s criminally short skirt and between her legs.

Now, though, now that Dani pauses here again, Jamie realizes that this is as far as they got yesterday, too; dangling on some sort of indecisive edge between wanting to give in and wanting to slow down.

“Dani,” she says. “Are you—is this—” Dani pulls back with a questioning look in her eyes and though it’s enough to clear the fog in Jamie’s head a little, the color of Dani’s eyes this close, is also distracting.

“Good?” Jamie finishes, weakly.

And she means to say _Are you good?_ but it doesn’t exactly land that way, if Dani’s widening eyes are any indication.

“Is it not?” 

She drops her hand so fast from under Jamie’s shirt that it’s almost comical. Almost, because the sudden look of embarrassment on Dani’s face is anything but.

“Sorry,” Dani says, already scrambling back from Jamie before Jamie has a chance to control the damage. “I’ve never—I mean, I didn’t realize I was doing it wrong.”

Jamie’s throat constricts. “ _No,_ ” she says. “No, Dani—you’re not—” Her breath catches, heat rising on her cheeks. Her hand finds Dani’s, just before she’s able to pull back completely, and Jamie is too aware of how wrecked her own voice sounds when she breathes out, “This is... exactly right.” Dani’s eyes widen. “I mean—you’re not doing it wrong, ‘s what I’m saying. You’re... it’s all...”

She needs to stop talking now, before she embarrasses herself even further.

Dani’s brow is slightly furrowed, but it’s curiosity almost. It’s pushing right back into that tension between them. “Yeah?” she says softly.

Jamie nods, swallows thickly. Then, blurts out, “Do you want to get a drink?”

Dani is unable to keep the surprise from her face. “ _Now_?”

“No,” Jamie rushes, and again she’s blushing, again this is all backwards and she hasn’t been made this flustered by a girl since... school, really. _Jesus._ “I meant later. Tonight, maybe? This is your last day of work, right?”

Dani’s fingers find the collar of her jacket as she slowly presses closer, back into Jamie’s space. “You mean... like a date?”

Jamie is slightly distracted by the fact that Dani’s lipstick is smudged. She feels painfully stuck between the impulse of swiping her thumb over Dani’s bottom lip and to lean in and mess it up some more. “Yeah,” she says, after a second, when she realizes Dani’s caught her staring. “If you want to. I’d get it if you don’t, I just—”

“I’m done at five.”

Jamie beams.

:::

Dani’s outfit is _criminal,_ Jamie decides.

Both a violation of labor protection law as well as a violation on account of the fact that Jamie can’t concentrate on anything else all day.

It’s been one thing, for the past few days, to watch Dani at the Christmas market from afar, to pretend not to notice her walking around clad head to toe in red velvet (though, _head to toe_ is a generous description given the lack of actual fabric).

It’s a whole other thing to know how Dani kisses and be expected to just get on with her day.

By noon, multiple customers have commented on Jamie’s lack of focus. She’s tried, best she can, to brush it off with a smile and a muttered comment about the Christmas spirit, but anyone who’d bother to look a second longer, knows it’s all because of Dani.

Dani, who keeps finding excuses to find herself right in front of Jamie’s flower shop, even when the Christmas market is across the road. Dani, who keeps glancing at her through the windows of the shop as she talks to families. Dani, who looks so goddamn _attractive_ that Jamie’s going to lose her head over it. 

She’s so lost in thought that she doesn’t notice the bell ring or the sound of approaching children until one of them exclaims, “ _Jamie!_ ”

It’s the girl from yesterday; Flora.

She’s smiling wide and is already running up to the counter like she comes here every single day. Her brother is a bit more reluctant, hovering next to Mrs. Grose, who, too, steps up to Jamie like they’re old friends.

“Morning, love.”

Jamie smiles, a bit wider than she usually would. She can’t help it. Everything today feels sharper and warmer and—

Ugh, Owen was right.

She’s totally feeling festive.

“Mornin’,” she says, to distract herself from the realization. “What can I do for you today?”

Hannah speaks —an incident with the flowers they got yesterday; Miles looking somewhat embarrassed; something about running in the house and a vase breaking; flowers ripped to shreds. It doesn’t really matter, doesn’t even really make Jamie feel as mad as she usually would. Instead, she helps Flora pick out a new bouquet, chatting about Christmas and about the snow.

“It’s going to snow even more later!” Flora says. “Miles and I are going sledding!”

“That sounds fun,” Jamie says.

She glances through the window of the shop, mostly to check the sky, but she’s instantly distracted by the sight of Dani, up on the Santa stage, making funny faces at the kids waiting in line.

Jamie’s heart beats faster.

God, she can’t wait for this day to end.

“You know,” Hannah says, then, “I do like that young woman.”

She’s looking at Jamie with a knowing expression and Jamie feels the blush rise on her cheeks instantly.

“Oh, it’s not...”

Hannah gives her look and Jamie trails off.

Can anybody just see this, then? How she’s unable to keep Dani from her thoughts for even a moment? How she’s in the shop, taking care of business as usual, but somewhere else entirely? Already imagining how their night might go. Grabbing a hold of Dani’s hand as they walk to the pub through the snow. Talking. Smiling at each other. Sitting across from Dani with a drink, like her own flat isn’t a few steps away.

Hannah clears her throat.

“Right,” Jamie rushes out. “Well, I mean, I do, too—not that I... Just—you know.” She rakes a hand through her curls, then says, “Was that all for you?”

Hannah just smiles.

:::

Flora is right.

While the snow has been falling steadily all day, by the end of the afternoon it starts coming down hard.

Initially, the families on the square in front of the shop seem to delight in it. But increasingly, as the storm thickens, Jamie can see parents starting to pull their children away from the snowball fights and onto the path home. The sky darkens and Jamie feels a hint of worry lodge into her chest as she stands in front of the window, looking out.

There are only a handful of people left near the Santa stage, but even from here, Jamie can see Dani shivering. She still has a smile on her face as she busies herself with leading the last of the children forward, but she’s clearly freezing, is clearly still forced to continue with her tasks until the very last minute of her shift, even as that prick Peter Quint is standing to the side in his stupid coat, just _looking on like he’s not the one responsible for—_

Before Jamie really knows what she’s doing, she is already picking up her coat and storming out of the shop, barely conscious of the fact that she flips the _open_ sign on her door to _closed_ as she passes.

Enough is enough.

The snow is icy in her eyes, but it does nothing to cool her anger.

“Charlie,” Peter Quint is saying to one of the other girls, unaware of Jamie approaching. “Please be of service and _try_ to look alive, love. I’m not paying you to—” His voice cuts off as he sees Jamie striding forwards, and just like that his eyes go comically wide and he straightens up. “You know what, I think we should call it a day.”

Jamie feels a surge of power rushing through her chest. “You wrapping this up, then?” she says, and if her voice comes out a little gruff, well—it only seems to help her cause.

“Right,” Peter says. “Have you seen this weather? It’s not appropriate to let—”

“Save your breath, Quint.” She jabs a finger to his chest. “Don’t think you’re off the hook just yet. I’m still keepin’ an eye on you.” He gives her the darkest, most vile look he can manage but Jamie is unfazed. “Get on, then,” she says. “Call it off.”

He stares at her for one long moment, challenging. But then he turns. “Ladies!”

Jamie shoves her hands into the pockets of her coat. It doesn’t take long for Dani to spot her, and when their eyes meet, Jamie feels her whole body heat up, even in the freezing winter air.

She watches Dani say goodbye to the families, watches her wish them a happy Christmas. She watches, also, how one of the girls that Dani works with pulls her in for a second, after giving Jamie a not-so-subtle look, and promptly saying something that makes Dani nearly stumble over her own feet.

But then, finally, Dani is making her way over and Jamie can feel her heart speed up.

She shoves her hands deeper into her pockets, tries to look unaffected.

“You’re off the hook?” she says, once Dani is in front of her.

Dani just smiles. “Seems like someone yelled at Quint and made it happen.”

Jamie feels her lips twitch. “Didn’t yell.”

Dani just laughs. “Apparently you scared him pretty good yesterday.”

Jamie feels her cheeks heat up and there’s all sorts of things she wants to say. She wants to say how pretty Dani looks with snowflakes in her eyelashes. She wants to say how watching her from afar all day has been agonizing. She wants to say: _forget about the pub, come home with me._

Instead, she says, “You look freezing. What do you say, I try to convince Owen into making us hot chocolate on the house?”

Dani’s expression makes Jamie’s skin tingle, especially when her mouth does that thing that Jamie’s starting to realize she does every time she is deciding whether to say the appropriate thing or something a little more daring, a little more bold.

She waits for it, holding her breath. Waits to see if Dani will suggest something else, if maybe she’s not the only one who can’t keep the desire for privacy from her mind.

But Dani just smiles, then. “Sounds excellent.”

:::

Owen sets a plate of freshly baked pastries right in front them next to their cups, and then makes up the weakest excuse to organize the backroom with a wink so obvious that Jamie’s about two seconds away from punching him in the nose.

It’s her own fault for suggesting to come here, though.

Dani, on the other hand, looks vaguely puzzled when Owen disappears out of sight. “Wait, does he... know?”

Jamie slumps against the counter, feeling embarrassed as she says, “He, ehm, he’s actually the one who put the... the holly up.”

Dani blinks. “The— _oh_.” She blushes, then grins. She leans forward just a little bit and it takes a lot of Jamie’s willpower not to follow suit. “Was that because you told him you have a crush on me or did he figure it out by himself?”

Jamie nearly chokes on her hot chocolate and Dani laughs. The sound of it makes Jamie’s heart swell with affection, despite the fact that she’s really quite done with Owen embarrassing her like this, both knowingly and unknowingly.

Outside, the snow is coming down so hard that they can barely see through it.

“Not exactly a wild night out at the pub,” Jamie mumbles.

Dani arches an eyebrow at her. “Wild night out?”

Jamie’s breath catches in her throat, realizing way too late how it sounds.

“I mean,” Dani says, before Jamie can try and make amends. “I’d say this, right here, is a date as good as any.” 

Jamie feels her lips curl into a smile. “Don’t tell Owen,” she says. “He’s already been taking all the credit.”

Dani laughs, and then, blurts out, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day.”

It’s forward and a bit out of the blue. And the moment the words leave her mouth, Dani starts worrying her lip between her teeth, almost like she’s not sure she should have said it, and the sight of it—

_God._

Those lips.

“Me too,” Jamie says, and Dani smiles.

:::

It takes them about an hour to realize that Owen has actually disappeared out of the back door.

They’ve been talking — easy chatter about America, about Dani’s old life, traded for whatever town gossip Jamie can think of and the hesitant confession that she actually really loves snow more than most things despite the cold.

(When she’d said it, Dani had actually flirted, _I don’t mind heating you up,_ subsequently making Jamie stumble over her words for a few seconds.)

Either way, Jamie’s been way to preoccupied with trying to push down on the impulse to kiss Dani after every single she says, so much so that she hasn’t really given Owen or the backroom any thought at all.

In hindsight, though, it’s been suspiciously quiet. And when Jamie checks her phone she finds about fourteen messages from Owen, ranging from _figured I would give you two lovebirds some space ;) ;)_ to _do lock up when you leave, keys are by the coffee grinder!!_ to _you better make me best man at the wedding and you know it._

She shoves the phone back in her pocket before Dani can say anything about it.

“Looks like we’re alone.”

It might be a trick of the light, but from where she’s seated at the counter, it seems like Dani’s expression darkens just a little bit. She’s still dressed in the Christmas market outfit, and Jamie’s been respectful about looking, but when Dani gets up and the hem of her skirt rides up just a bit, she can’t help it that her throat goes dry.

For one exhilarating second, it looks like Dani’s going to walk right over and close the space between them.

But instead, she walks to the window, glancing out. “Snow storm is really bad.”

Jamie sucks in a sharp breath, before making her way over, too. Dani’s not wrong; it’s completely dark right now, the entire street is deserted and the snow is only getting thicker and thicker.

“We might have some trouble getting home,” she says. “Might have to wait until it clears a bit.”

Dani glances at her. There’s something in her eyes that Jamie can’t place very easily, but all the same it makes her feel flustered.

“Sounds like it’s going to be a long night,” Dani says, and it’s slow and flirty. “What could we possibly do to pass the time?”

Jamie licks at her bottom lip, feeling her skin getting even hotter when Dani’s eyes track the movement.

“Hm,” she hums, part of her desire already overriding her impulse control. “Bake some bread?”

Dani laughs, the sound so full and charming. She swats at Jamie’s arm, making the space between them even smaller, and then says, “God, you’ve got no idea what you’re doing to me, do you?”

_Fuck._

Jamie, miraculously, hasn’t fully lost her voice. “And what’s that?”

Dani shifts forward, weaves her fingers through Jamie’s. “This,” she says, then, and pulls Jamie’s hand up, resting it just under her collarbone.

She’s not wearing the white jumper she was this morning, only the flimsy red top and Jamie’s own gray scarf on her neck. When Jamie’s fingertips brush against Dani’s bare skin, she inhales sharply.

“ _Dani_...”

Dani’s heartbeat is erratic under Jamie’s touch. She looks up at Jamie, all blue eyes and desire, and the past three days have been a test of Jamie’s patience, a test of her control—but then, Dani kisses her and the last bit of Jamie’s resolve falls away.

:::

Somehow, they end up against the counter. Somehow, they end up with Dani’s arm tight around Jamie’s waist and the hem of Dani’s skirt riding higher on her thigh than at any point before. Somehow, they end up kissing feverishly in the empty space of Owen’s café on Christmas Eve with a snow storm raging on outside.

Everything feels hot and needy and inevitable.

“Are you—” Jamie’s trying. Her voice is rough as Dani’s mouth is working magic on the side of her neck. “Do you—do you want to stop?”

Dani breaks away just long enough to for Jamie to catch the wild arousal in her expression as she shakes her head.

“No,” she says against Jamie’s lips. “I don’t want to stop. I’ve been—been thinking about this for days—”

_God._

Dani’s fingers land on the skin of Jamie’s neck and then they’re kissing again, both of them melting into it, all teeth and tongue and fire. There’s no space between their bodies; nothing but the loose fabric of Jamie’s shirt, which Dani is tugging on so desperately she might end up tearing it, and that _sinful_ Christmas outfit.

“This skirt...” Jamie manages to get out.

Dani actually smirks. She bites on her bottom lip and then, like she’s unaware of just how much this is driving Jamie _insane_ with desire, lifts her thigh to Jamie’s hip.

“You like it?” she says, as Jamie groans, fingers falling to Dani’s bare skin before she can stop herself. There’s a blush on Dani’s cheeks and for a moment she looks almost shy, but then, with an arching brow, she adds, “You should see what I’m wearing underneath.”

“ _Fuck._ ” The word slips from Jamie’s mouth before she can stop herself.

The color on Dani’s cheeks deepens even further, and Jamie — God help her— truly isn’t sure if she’ll be able to resist.

But still—

“I wanted,” she tries, and then, swallowing thickly and gathering her nerve. “Dani, this is not just—I mean, you’re not just...”

It’s dangerous territory, and she’s not sure this is the place to really have the conversation, not sure she even knows what she’s saying, just-kissed and with Dani’s skirt pushed up and her leg wrapped around her, in _Owen’s café_ of all places.

But still, if she’s going to say anything, she might as well do it now.

“Want to do it right,” she mumbles.

Dani looks at her, wide and open, and her hand is curled into the fabric of Jamie’s shirt a little tightly, like she’s suddenly scared Jamie will walk away if she doesn’t hold on. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not—” Jamie says, her mind running. “People, they, they tend to feel... exhausting to me. All of them. And I haven’t really wanted anything like... like...” She gestures vaguely between them, and Dani’s brow furrows just a bit, so she rushes out, “But you—I want to do it right. I’ve been trying to do it right.”

Something smooths out a bit in Dani’s expression, the smallest of smiles.

“You have,” she says. “You’ve been doing everything right. In fact—” And now it’s Dani’s time to look a bit overwhelmed, to stumble over her words. “—it’s never felt this right before. With anyone.”

It floods warmth through Jamie’s chest, and though they’re both so new to each other still, she can feel how true it is. Can feel it in the way Dani’s been slowly letting Jamie in on the bits and pieces of that world she comes from, how stubborn she is about making it work here, in this tiny town. How _good_ it feels to look at Dani and see someone who understands what it means to start over and want something for yourself, even when your hands, your voice, your heart are shaking. 

“Yeah?”

Dani nods. “Yeah,” she says, “Which is why...” She shifts her hips just a little bit and Jamie’s throat goes fucking dry. “If it feels right for you and right for me...”

Jamie kisses her.

Dani’s hands come up to tangle in her hair and she sighs into Jamie’s mouth with something close to relief.

It’s less frantic, but every bit as hot; their kisses progressively getting deeper, their touches more daring. The breathless, perfect slide of Jamie’s hand under the velvet of the skirt, finally, _finally_. The way Dani’s breathing gets uneven, her body fully falling into Jamie’s with so much trust and heat.

And then—

The way Dani’s eyes widen when Jamie drops to her knees.

The way her moans get loader.

The way how, after, she drags Jamie up a little wildly, drops her hand to the button on Jamie’s trousers and whispers _show me how_ right against the shell of Jamie’s ear.

The last thing Jamie can think of before her mind whites out, is that the cold outside doesn’t hold anything against the heat of Dani’s fingers.

:::

The snow stops falling at some point after midnight, though Jamie has lost track of the time.

“We can never tell Owen,” she says. “Never.”

Dani giggles against the back of Jamie’s neck. They’re more or less clothed again, but Jamie feels boneless and _touched_ , and knows that the feeling will linger long into the night and perhaps into the next morning.

“What do you say we go weather the storm?” she mumbles. “Quite literally, I might add.”

Dani pouts a bit, her fingers drawing some distracted pattern on the skin of Jamie’s stomach. “We can’t stay longer?”

Jamie laughs. “Don’t you want to sleep in a bed?”

Dani thinks on it, almost like she’s actually considering the alternative. But then she weaves her hand into Jamie’s.

:::

They’ve not made it halfway to the end of the street when Dani says, “Shoot! My Christmas tree!”

:::

The flower shop is dark, and Jamie really only means to rush it, grab the Christmas tree, and go back out, but then, on impulse, she gets an idea.

“Have something for you,” she says.

Dani’s brow furrows and Jamie walks to the counter, to where the small vase is standing. She’s not a festive person. She doesn’t remember to get people presents. And this flower, it’s really only for _her,_ something small to take care of, to work hard for.

But it’s—

She turns.

“Merry Christmas,” she says softly and Dani’s looking at her in a way that makes Jamie’s whole body flood with _feeling_.

She’d been right before; about how it will linger into the night.

She’ll feel it, in a minute, when she will ramble through a shaky explanation about _once in a goddamn blue moon_ and _the mortality of a thing._

She’ll feel it when they’ll make their way through the snow, dragging the tree up the stairs to Dani’s flat. When Dani takes her hand and leads her to the bedroom. When Jamie strips the red off Dani’s body and makes an offhand comment about how it’s a shame that Dani won’t have to put the outfit on tomorrow. She’ll feel it, blushing at the way Dani will wink and say she’ll gladly model it for Jamie privately, before she’s being pushed down into the mattress by Dani’s impatient hips.

She’ll feel it tomorrow, waking up in an American girl’s bed on Christmas morning. She’ll feel it through meeting Rebecca, awkwardly, in Dani’s cramped kitchen, and through Owen’s relentless teasing for weeks.

She’ll feel it, stretched into the future in ways she can’t even consider yet.

But right now—

Right now, all she’s aware of is the heat of Dani’s eyes and the flower cupped between their hands. Like Christmas come early. Or right on time, maybe, or possibly forever. All Jamie can really do is be brave and lean right into it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> Can we collectively pretend moonflowers bloom in December? Let me know what you think! And if you want to come yell at me, find me on tumblr: e-lec-tric-in-di-go.

**Author's Note:**

> This will most likely be three parts but who really knows :) Let me know what you think in the comments! Have a great few days and stay safe!


End file.
